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BOSTON 



^^^^^^^g^^~'- ^^^^ 



COPYRIGHT, 18F 



& CO. 



plays for ^mateur 5l?eatrieals. 

BY GEORGE tt. BRKER, 

Author cf "Amateur Dramas," "The Mimic Stage," "The Social Stage," "The Drawing- 
Room Stage" "Handy Dramas," "The Exhibition Dramas" "A Baker's Dozen" etc. 

Titles in this Type are New Plays. 

Title* in this Type are Temperance Plays. 



DRAMAS. 

In Four A cts. 
Better than Gold. 7 male, 4 female 
char 

In Three Acts. 

Our Folks. 6 male, 5 female char. . 

The Flower of the Family. 5 
male, 3 female char 

Enlisted for the War. 7 male, 3 fe- 
male char 

My Brother's Keeper. 5 male, 3 fe- 
male char 

The Little Brown Jug. 5 male, 3 
female char 

In Two A cts. 
Above the Clouds. 7 male, 3 female 

char 

One Hundred Years Ago. 7 male, 

4 female char 

Among the Breakers. 6 male, 4 female 

char 

Bread on the Waters. 5 male, 3 female 

char 

Down by the Sea. 6 male, 3 female 

char 

Once on a Time. 4 male, 2 female char. 
The Last Loaf. 5 male, 3 female char. 

In One Act. 
Stand by the Flag. 5 male char. . . 
The Tempter. 3 male, 1 female char. 

COMEDIES AND FARCES. 

A Mysterious Disappearance. 4 

male, 3 female char . 

Paddle Your Own Canoe. j'"ma\e 

3 female char. . , 

A. Drop too Much. 4 male, a female 

char 

A. Little More Cider. 5 male, 3 fe- 
male char 

A Thorn Among the Roses. 2 male, 6 
female char 

Never .Say Die. 3 male, 3 female char. 

Seeing the Elephant. 6 male, 3 female 
char 

The Boston Dip. 4 male, 3 female char. 

The Duchess of Dublin. 6 male, 4 fe- 
male char 

Thirty Minutes for Refreshments. 

4 male, 3 female char 

We're all Teetotalers. 4 male, 2 fe- 
male char 

Male Characters Only. 

A Close Shave. 6 char 

A Public Benefactor. 6 char. . . . 
A Sba of Troubles. 8 char. .... 

WALTER H. * 



COMEDIES, etc., continued. 

Male Characters Only. 
A Tender Attachment. 7 char. . . 

Coals of Fire. 6 char 

Freedom of the Press. 8 char. . . . 
Shall Our Mothers Vote? 11 char. 
Gentlemen of the Jury. 12 char. . . 
Humors of the Strike. 8 char. . . . 
My Uncle the Captain. 6 char. . . . 
New Brooms Sweep Clean. 6 char. 

The Great Elixir. 9 char 

The Hypochondriac. 3 char 

The Man with the Demijohn. 4 

char 

The Runaways. 4 char 

The Thief of Time. 6 char 

Wanted, a Male Cook. 4 char. . . . 

Female Characters Only. 
A Love of a Bonnet. 5 char. .... 

A Precious Pickle. 6 char 

No Cure No Pay. 7 char 

The Champion of Her Sex. 8 char. ' . 
The Greatest Plague in Life. 8 char. 

The Grecian Bend. 7 char 

The Red Chignon. 6 char 

Using the Weed. 7 char 

ALLEGORIES. 

A rrangedfor Music and Tableaux. 
Lighthart's Pilgrimage. 8 female 



char. 



The Revolt of the Bees. 9 female 
char • • 

The Sculptor's Triumph, i male. 4 fe- 
male char 

The Tournament of Idylcourt. 10 fe- 
male char 

The War of the Roses. 8 female char. 

The Voyage of Life. 8 female char. . 

MUSICAL AND DRAMATIC. 

An Original Idea, i male, 1 female 

Bonbons; or, the Paint King. 6 male, 
i female char 

Capuletta; or, Romeo and Juliet 
Restored. 3 male, 1 female char. 

Santa Claus' Frolics 

Snow-bound; or, Alonzo the Brave, 
and the Fair Imogene. 3 male, 1 
female char 

The Merry Christmas of the Old 
Woman who Lived in a Shoe. . . . 

The Pedler of Very Nice. 7 male 
char 

The Seven Ages. A Tableau Entertain- 
ment. Numerous male and female char. 

Too Late for the Train. 2 male char. 

The Visions of Freedom, ii female 
char 



i5 



\ CO 93 Winter St„ Boston. 



"WHEN THE CURTAIN RISES" 



A COLLECTION OF LIGHT AND SIMPLE DRAMAS FOR PAR- 
LOR REPRESENTATION, REQUIRING BUT FEW 
"PROPERTIES" AND SLIGHT "MAKING 
UP," PARTICULARLY ADAPTED 
TO THE NOVICE ON 
THE STAGE 



CLARA J.' DENTON 

AUTHOR OF "LITTLE PEOPLE'S DIALOGUES" "A PRIMER OF ELOCUTION' 






A?: 

BOSTON 

1890 




Copyright, 1S90, 
By WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 



WHEN THE CURTAIN RISES." 






TMP92-009088 



CONTENTS. 



THE MAN WHO WENT TO EUROPE. 

A Comedietta in One Act, for three men, two women, one boy. 

ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 

A Drama in Three Acts, for two men, two women, one boy. 

"W. H." 

A Farce in One Act, for three women and one man. 

A CHANGE OF COLOR. 

A Drama in One Act, for three women and two men. 

"TO MEET MR. THOMPSON." 
A Farce in One Act, for eight women. 



THE MAN WHO WENT TO EUROPE. 



& <&nz &ct Cometig. 



Mrs. Boardwell 

Mr. Diehl . 

Cora 

Prof. Jones 

Harry . 

Jim 



CIIARx\CTERS. 

The keeper of a boarding-house 

An eccentric old gentleman 

His daughter 

" The man -who xvent to Europe " 

.•••.. His son 

A colored servant boy 



COSTUMES. 

For the ladies, ordinary home toilets. 

For the gentlemen, ordinary business suits. 

For Jim, plain cheap suit. 




THE MAN WHO WENT TO EUROPE. 



Scene. — A parlor or sitting-room. (Harry Jones is 

discovered walking about.) 

Harry. Just three months to-day since I entered 
this parlor and met for the first time my lovely Cora. 
Yesterday she promised to become my bride if her 
father, Mr. Diehl, does not object. But, then, he is so 
eccentric, and I fear his decision very much. He 
promised to meet me here in the parlor immediately 
after dinner. Ah, I hear his step ! 
{Enter Mr. Diehl, r. Harry places a chair for him?) 

Mr. Diehl. No, never mind a chair, young man, I 
prefer standing. Well, let us come to the point at 
once. So, you want my daughter ? 

Harry (starting forward). How do you know ? 
Has she — ? 

Mr. Diehl. No, no, she has not mentioned the 
matter. But do you think that because I wear specta- 
cles I have no eyes behind them ? Or, because my 
hair is now gray, do you think it never was black ? 

Harry {eagerly). Then, my dear Mr. Diehl, since 
you remember your own youth so well, I trust you will 
be kind to me and grant me your daughter's hand. 

Mr. Diekl. Umph ! You ask for my daughter as 



8 THE MAN WHO WENT TO EUROPE. 

coolly as though the giving cost me nothing. I don't 
doubt your affection for one another, that's a fact that 
has long been patent to all eyes, neither have I any 
objection to you personally. 

Harry. I heartily thank you, sir, for saying that 
much. 

Mr. Diehl. But, the truth is, I am very much op- 
posed to losing her at all. Maybe you'll find out some 
day what it means for a young blade to walk up and 
coolly ask for the "apple of your eye." 

Harry. Oh, sir, your reluctance to part with her 
only increases my desire to call her my wife. 

Mr. Diehl. Then, I had better change my tactics 
and berate her as an undutiful jade. 

Harry. Instead of believing you, I should endeavor 
the more to remove her from one who could be so un- 
just to her. 

Mr. Diehl (laughing). Well, I must admit if your 
hands and your heart are always as ready as your wit, 
you will make an excellent husband. Nevertheless, I 
cannot to-day, at least, consent to give you my daugh- 
ter. You are both young enough to wait. 

Harry. But I may at least console myself with the 
thought that I have not been refused ? 

Mr. Diehl {laughing). Well, well, so you may if 
that's any comfort to you. But what does the Pro- 
fessor think of all this ? 

Harry. Indeed, I have not mentioned the matter 
to him, and I think he suspects nothing. He pays 
very little attention to my affairs, being wholly ab- 
sorbed in his own. 



THE MAN WHO WENT TO EUROPE. 9 

Mr. Diehl {laughing ). In reviewing his trip to 
Europe, for instance ? 

Harry {laughing). Yes, yes, that's about it. 

Mr. Diehl. Do you know the sobriquet given to 
him by men about town ? 

Harry {anxiously). Nothing bad, I hope. 

Mr. Diehl. Certainly not. He is called " the man 
who went to Europe." 

Harry {laughing). Well, I must admit that's very 
appropriate. 

Mr. Diehl. I heard a man yesterday offer to bet 
five dollars that no one could talk to the Professor ten 
minutes without hearing some allusions to his European 
trip. Had I been a betting man I should have taken 
him, for I am sure I could knock the Professor off the 
track. 

Harry {laughing). I do not think you could do it. 

Mr. Diehl. Pshaw! nothing easier. I should in- 
troduce subjects so far away from Europe that he 
couldn't mention it. 

Harry {eagerly). Oh, Mr. Diehl, a fine plan occurs 
to me. I will find my father who is still in the dining- 
room, probably, chatting with Mrs. Boardwell. I will 
bring him here under some pretext, then you can try 
your skill upon him. You are to converse wholly with 
him for ten minutes by my watch, and if during that 
time you keep him from mentioning his trip to Europe, 
I will leave my engagement to your daughter open for 
three months. But, if you fail, our engagement shall 
be immediately announced, and the wedding day be 
subject only to her will and pleasure. 



10 THE MAN WHO WENT TO EUROPE. 

Mr. Diehl. That is a novel offer, but I must con 
fess it strikes me favorably. 

Harry {going, r.). Well, then, I'll go and find him ; of 
course, you have my word that. I'll say nothing to him 
about it, Mr. Diehl. {Stands, r.) 

Mr. Diehl. Oh, of course, that's understood. 
While you are gone, I'll step down to the corner and mail 
these letters. {Taking them from his pocket.) I'll meet 
you here in five minutes. {Enter Mrs. Boardwell, r.) 

Mrs. Boardwell. Oh, excuse me, I didn't know 
any one was here. {Turning to go.) 

Mr. Diehl {going, l.). No, no, Mrs. Boardwell, we 
were just going — back in five minutes, young man. 
{Exit, l.) 

Harry {going, r.). No intrusion, Mrs. Boardwell, 
our conference was just over. {Exit, r.) 

Mrs. Boardwell {sits, r. a). Dear me, what a pity 
his father is not so agreeable as he is. I have grown 
so tired of the Professor's ceaseless chatter about 
Europe. I once thought I'd marry him if I got the 
chance, but I've changed my mind. Well, there's no 
danger of his asking me, he couldn't keep his mind out 
of Europe long enough. 

{Enter Prof. Jones, l.) 

Prof. Jones. All alone, Mrs. Boardwell ? (Mrs. 
Boardwell bows ; the Professor places a chair near 
her and sits in it.) I am glad to find you so, for I have 
something very particular to say to you. 

Mrs. Boardwell {annoyed). Did you meet your 
son and Mr. Diehl as you came in ? 

Prof. Jones. I did not. That Diehl seems a pleas- 



THE MAN WHO WENT TO EUROPE. I I 

ant gentleman. I met a Mr. Diehl when {impressively) 
I was in Europe ; a German, I remember. However, 
Mrs. Boardwell, I have something very important to 
say to you. You must have observed that you are very 
attractive to me, that I seek your presence at every 
possible opportunity. Of course, no honorable gentle- 
man, especially one of my years, would act thus unless 
he entertains intentions of a serious nature. When I 
was in Europe — 

Mrs. Boardwell {rising suddenly). You ought to 
have stayed there. {Exit hastily, r.) 

Prof. Jones {rising and coming to a). Well, well, 
what an unaccountable manner that lady has at times. 
In all my travels in Europe {impressively), I never saw 
a lady leave a room so hastily, or, I must admit, so 
gracefully. She is very coy. But what did she say 
about my staying in Europe ? No doubt that was only 
coquetry. It cannot be that she would refuse a man 
of my parts, a man of my wealth and standing, a man 
who has been to Europe ! 

{Enter Harry, r.) 

Harry {comes to a). Oh, here you are ! I have been 
searching the house over for you. 

Prof. Jones {surprised). Why, what can you want 
)f me in so great a hurry ? 

Harry {aside). What excuse shall I make ? {Enter 
Mr. Diehl.) Oh, here is Mr. Diehl, never mind now, 
father, some other time will do. 

Mr. Diehl {comes to a). So, Professor, you are 
here, quite a pleasure indeed ; it is not often that we 
have a chat with you. 



12 THE MAN WHO WENT TO EUROPE. 

(During this speech Harry places chairs for the two 
gentlemen ; he then sits down beside Mr. Diehl.) 

Prof. Jones. No. I fear I am not a very gregari- 
ous being. The truth is, so much of my time is taken 
up in study that I have not much left for social pleas- 
ures. 

Harry (aside to Mr. Diehl, as he consults his watch). 
Time begins now, ten minutes, remember. 

Mr. Diehl (aside to Harry). All right ; full and 
honest measure is all I ask. (To Prof. Jones.) Well, 
sir, a love of books is a great resource under all cir- 
cumstances ; I have found it so in my experience. I 
have spent several years of my life in the pine woods of 
Northern Michigan, and I am sure I must have died of 
loneliness during the long winter evenings, had it not 
been for my faithful friends and companions, books. 
Were you ever among the Michigan pines, Professor ? 

Prof. Jones. No, that is an experience still unwon 
by me, but — 

Mr. Diehl {interrupting hastily). They are wonder- 
ful, wonderful, those Michigan pine trees. 

Harry (aside to Mr. Diehl). Dangerously near the 
edge that time. In another moment you would have 
heard of the pine trees of Europe. 

Prof. Jones. They no doubt are very remarkable, 
perhaps quite equal to — 

Mr. Diehl (hastily). Oh, I assure you quite supe- 
rior to the pine trees of Maine. The deep silence, the 
shadowy vistas, the immense number of the green giants 
are indeed a very impressive sight. But this feature of 
Michigan is rapidly disappearing before the lumber- 



THE MAN WHO WENT TO EUROPE. 1 3 

man's greed. I, alone, have despoiled one of the best 
wooded counties in the State. 

Prof. Jones. Indeed ; I supposed you visited the 
pine woods for their bracing air. I was not aware you 
had ever engaged in the lumbering business. 

Mr. Diehl. Oh, yes, I made the greater part of what 
fortune I possess in that business. I went into it with 
about ten thousand dollars, and retired, at the end of 
twenty-five years, with half a million. 

Prof. Jones. Is it possible ! Is your process a 
secret ? 

Mr. Diehl. Oh, no, it is very simple ; it consists 
in buying your pine low and selling your lumber high. 

Prof. Jones. But I should think the lumber market 
would be glutted occasionally, what then ? 

Mr. Diehl. Of course that event does occur, but I 
was always what people call " lucky," although my firm 
opinion is that " luck " consists only in careful atten- 
tion to business, and close calculation. {Aside to 
Harry.) You see, I am getting on famously. 

Prof. Jones. Yes, that is a commonplace truth too 
often lost sight of. But did you never meet with any 
losses ? 

Mr. Diehl. None of any moment, and, when I had 
accumulated half a million, I thought it wise to retire. 
One poor fellow in the county adjoining me was worth 
nearly a million, all made in lumbering, but he couldn't 
be satisfied, he went in deeper, and lost all. Poor 
Hunter — he ought to have known better. 
(Cora and Mrs. Boardwell, at this point, enter back, c, 

and sit down. They are seen only by Harry, who mo- 
tions to them in an aside?) 



14 THE MAN WHO WENT TO EUROPE. 

Prof. Jones. I beg pardon, but did you say the 
name was Hunter ? 

Mr. Diehl. Yes ; John Hunter, I think. Do you 
know him ? 

Prof. Jones. Perhaps so. There was a man of 
that name who was one of my fellow passengers when 
I went to Europe. {These words must be spoken quickly?) 

Harry {closing his watch with a loud snap and, rising, 
throws his handkerchief in the air). Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! 

Mr. Diehl {dropping his head on his hand). Too 
much for me, I declare. 

(Harry continues to walk about and laugh?) 

Prof. Jones {surprised). Why, Harry ! what a very 
uncivil fellow you are getting to be ! 

Harry {dashing at the Professor, and taking both his 
hands). You dearest, best of fathers, I adore you. I 
bless you with all my heart. Oh, if I might only em- 
brace you ! 

Prof. Jones {angrily and snatching away his hand). 
What nonsense is this ? You are behaving like a luna- 
tic ! What possesses you ? 

Mr. Diehl {rising). Come, Professor, let us ad- 
journ to the smoking-room. You smoke, I believe. 

Prof. Jones {rising). Yes, I have always been a 
devotee of the weed, and I strengthened the habit 
when I was in Europe. I don't wonder you are dis- 
gusted. (Sternly to Harry, who is still capering about 
and laughing.) I hope, young man, you- will be in a 
more sensible frame of mind when I next see you. 
(Going.) 

Mr. Diehl (aside to Harry). Fairly won, my boy, 
she is yours ; prize her as you should. 



THE MAN WHO WENT TO EUROPE. 1 5 

Prof. Jones {looking back from his position ?iear the 
exit, and speaking sternly). Never mind him, Mr. Diehl ; 
leave him to his vagaries ; it is useless to expostulate 
with him, I fear. 
(Enter Jim, r., who, without seeing the Profescor, who 

should stand at one side of the exit, goes up to Mrs. 

BOARDWELL.) 

Jim. Oh, Mis' Boardwell, there's a man at the door 
as wants to see a gem'man what boards here, but he 
done forgot his name. He says folks calls him " the 
man what went to Yurrup," and I thought it must be 
the Perfessor (the Professor starts and looks angry) 
case he's been to Yurrup more'n any man I ever seed 
afore, but he ain't in his room, and — {Exit the Pro- 
fessor stealthily, r.) 

Mrs. Boardwell {laughing furtively). Never mind, 
Jim, I think the Professor has gone to see the man, so 
you may be excused. 

Jim. All right, missus, I'se obleeged to you. (Exit, 

R.) 

Mr. Diehl (laughing). Poor Professor ! Jim's 
random shot struck home. But I believe I will find 
him, and show him what a good turn he has done you, 
Harry. 

Harrv. Do, by all means, Mr. Diehl, I am sure 
that will soothe him and make him happy again. (Exit 
Mr. Diehl, r.) And now, Mrs. Boardwell, congratu- 
late me, for I see by your face that you begin to get an 
inkling of the matter. 
(Mrs. Boardwell and Cora rise and come forward?) 

Mrs. Boardwell (offeri?ig her hand). Indeed i do, 



1 6 THE MAN WHO WENT TO EUROPE. 

and no one wishes you all manner of happiness more 
heartily than I do. 

Cora {looking from one to the other). But I don't un- 
derstand you at all. What riddles you talk in ! 

Harry {putting her hand on his arm). Well, come 
with me, and I will explain it all to you. {Exeunt Cora 
and Harry.) 

Mrs. Boardwell. So, they will be happy. Well, 
so I am, for, indeed, I would rather keep a boarding- 
house until I'm seventy than to be tied for life to a 
conceited idiot who thinks himself the only man who 
ever " went to Europe." 

CURTAIN. 



ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 



& JBratna in Eiyxct Jpjjort &cte. 



CHARACTERS. 

Mr. Neal . . yl xvealthy gentleman of middle age 

Lottie ....... His daughter 

Ernest Merle, A -wealthy young gentleman, in love with 
Lottie: disguised as Mr. Spiers, a book-assent 



Tim An Irish lad 

Aunt Prue . . An old lady, deaf, and very eccentric 



COSTUMES. 
Mr. Ncal, handsome business suit. 

Mr. Spiers, plainer business suit ; a wig of red hair ; also 
heavy whiskers and mustache to match. 
Tim, a new cheap "store suit." 
Lottie, stylish morning costume. 
Aunt Prue, handsome dress for an old lady. 




ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 



ACT I. 

Scene. — Hotel parlor. Mr. Spiers is discovered strid- 
ing angrily about the room ; comes to c. 

Mr. Spiers. That stupid Tim ! I've a good mind 
to discharge him on the spot. Of course he has to be 
in my confidence, in a measure, and he has a dozen 
times nearly spoiled all by his blunders. Ah ! there 
he comes. 

{Enter Tim, r.) 

Tim {speaking rapidly). Sure, Misther Mer — 

Mr. Spiers {angrily). There, Tim ! can't you learn 
anything ? 

Tim {bowing humbly). Faith an' I crave yer honor's 
parding, but shure Misther Mer — Spier — ut's roight. 
I got it that toime — but ye're the gay laddie buck in 
that rig. {Laughs.) 

Mr. Spiers {frowning). Well, enough of that, Tim. 
But now, tell me if you've done your errands properly. 

Tim. It's that I have, Mr. Spiers, — listen to that 
jist — though I came near niver foinding meself in this 
big Chicagie. 

Mr. Spiers. Well, Tim, there is just one thing 



20 ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 

about it, you must be more careful about my name. 
You have come very near spoiling everything several 
times. 

Tim. Indade, thin, and I'll be that keerful, shure 
an' I'd niver spoil your little lark at all, at all. 

Mr. Spiers {gravely). Tim, this is no " little lark." 
It is a very serious business. Perhaps if I tell you all 
about it, you will be able to keep a closer watch 
on that blundering tongue of yours. The truth is, Tim, 
I am in love with a young lady — 

Tim {interrupting). Bless her purty eyes whoever 
she is, but she's a lucky colleen. 

Mr. Spiers. No ; she is most unlucky, for her 
father hates me, and will not allow us to meet ; so, 
when I was nearly wild to see her, I hit upon this dis- 
guise and gained admission to her presence as a book- 
agent. Then, I learned that they were coming West, 
so I immediately followed them here. 



Tim. Begorra an' is she in this city, sur 



Mr. Spiers. • In this city ? Tim, she is in this very 
hotel. I saw her last night and this morning at the 
table. But this is not all, Tim. I have a friend in this 
city who knows the young lady's father, Mr. Neal, well. 
I went to see this friend, without my disguise, of course, 
and told him my story. The consequence was that he 
came up to the hotel early last evening when we were 
all standing around talking, and, pretending to chance 
upon me unexpectedly, he managed to introduce me to 
Mr. Neal as Mr. Spiers. I stuck by him all the e veil- 
ing, took him to a concert, met him again this morning 
before breakfast, and he then said he would introduce 



ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 21 

me to his daughter at the first opportunity. Now, do 
you see, Tim ? 

Tim. Shure, an' it's a nate schame it is sur, and I'll 
be as keerful as iver I can, sur. 

Mr. Spiers. Well, here (hands coin), go out and 
buy me the morning paper and bring it to me down in 
the office. (Exit Tim, r.) I think if I lounge about 
there awhile, I am likely to see Mr. Neal and perhaps 
be kindly introduced to my beloved. (Exit, r.) 

(Enter Lottie, l. ; carries a ?iewspaper ; comes to c.) 

Lottie. How delightful to know that I am at last 
in Chicago, but I must see what is going on in this 
great city. (Sits in chair, and opening the paper is 
absorbed in it.) 

(Enter Mr. Neal, l.) 

Mr. Neal (going to Lottie). Oh, here you are. I 
was in hopes to find you. I want to bring a young 
friend of mine up here and introduce him. 

Lottie (her eyes on the paper). But first you must 
tell me who he is, what is his occupation, and where 
his residence ? 

Mr. Neal. His name is Mr. Spiers, and — 

Lottie (not looking up). Oh, there, there, that's 
enough. Spare me anything further. 

Mr. Neal. But you must hear the rest. Charlie 
Lount introduced him to me, so he must be all right. 
He is a very entertaining young fellow, and when dis- 
cussing business matters he has a manner that suits 
me exactly. 

Lottie (turning the paper, but not looking tip). And 
his business ? 



22 ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 

Mr. Neal. General book-agent. 

Lottie {starting up and speaking- scornfully). " Book- 
agent ! " The idea of introducing a book- agent to me/ 

Mr. Neal (striding angrily up to her). Now, I'd 
just like to know what you mean by such pertness, 
miss ? 

Lottie (aside). Dear me, what a fancy he must 
have taken to Mr. Spiers. (To him.) I mean what 
I say, of course. I don't care to know a book-agent. 
(Walks of, r.) 

Mr. Neal (following her). See here, young woman, 
do you forget that your father sprang from the ranks, 
and won by honest toil the wealth that you so arrogantly 
enjoy ? 

Lottie (returns to c. ; sits). How can I forget it when 
you so often go out of your way to remind me of it ? 
(Reading paper again.) 

Mr. Neal (sternly). Well, understand me, I want 
no more of this high-mightiness from you. It all comes 
from your association with that young aristocrat, 
Ernest Merle. His father snubbed and brow-beat me 
when I was a youth, and now comes his son filling my 
daughter's head with high-strung notions. It's too 
much to bear patiently, and I don't want any more 
of it. But I do want you to be civil to Mr. Spiers. 
I'm going to hunt him up now, and just remember if 
you get off any of your hity-tity ways to him, I promise 
you, you'll regret it. (Exit, r.) 

Lottie (throws down paper ; rises). Polite to him, 
polite to him ! Ah, if he only knew how hard it will 
be to avoid being even more than he asks. But I do 



ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 23 

fear I shall laugh in his face, for he looks so comical 
in that disguise. How dreadful it would be if I should 
!augh! Father would then think, of course, that I am 
not treating Mr. Spiers with becoming deference ; but 
I hear them coming, I must control my countenance. 
(Sits, takes up paper and reads?) 
{Enter Mr. Neal and Mr. Spiers, r. The introduction 

is given and received in due form, Lottie and Mr. 

Spiers performing their parts with becoming gravity?) 

Mr. Neal. And now, Lottie, if you can entertain 
Mr. Spiers, I shall be very glad, as I have a little busi- 
ness {looks at watch) to attend to at this very hour. 
I will ask your aunt to come down. Good-morning, 
Spiers, see you at dinner. (Exit, r.) 

Mr. Spiers (embracing Lottie). Your aunt? What 
does he mean ? I didn't know you were troubled with 
so useless an appendage. Must she come here to 
bother us ? 

Lottie. Oh, she'll not bother us much. She's as 
deaf as a post, and never sits down without falling 
asleep. (Both laugh?) 

Mr. Spiers. But who is she ? 

Lottie. My mother's only brother's widow. You 
must know, at the last moment some one told papa it 
would be unconventional for me to wander about the 
country with him unless I had a chaperon, so he sent 
for Aunt Prue ; but here she comes. 

(Enter Aunt Prue, l.) 

Lottie (goes up to her and shouts in her ear). Good- 
morning, Aunt Prue ; did you rest well ? 

Aunt Prue (also speaking very loud). Oh, Mr. Cres- 



24 ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 

well ! How do you do, Mr. Creswell ? Happy to mee 

you. 

(Lottie smothers a laugh behind her handkerchief . Mr. 

Spiers bows gravely. Aunt Prue passes and sits in 

a large chair behind them while they face the audience 

and laugh.) 

Mr. Spiers. So, I have another name. I hope 
you'll not forget who I am. 

Lottie. I hope I shall remember it better than 
poor auntie does her chaperonage. See, she is asleep 
already. 

Mr. Spiers {embraces Lottie). "Bless her! She is 
the finest old lady I ever saw. But now I must tell 
you, I have ordered a carriage so that we can see 
something of the city. Your father approved of the 
plan, but as he said nothing about Aunt Prue, the car- 
riage I have ordered will hold only two. 
{At this point Tim enters, r., unseen by them. He 

doubles himself up with silent laughter, and makes 

grimaces at them, as they stand lovingly together. He 

then goes out, silently, at the conclusion of Mr. Spiers's 

next speech?) 

Lottie. Oh, she will never miss us, poor soul. 
Isn't she a delightful chaperon to have ? 
(Aunt Prue snores.) 

Mr. Spiers. The very best I ever saw. I hope she 
will always be so sleepy. Your father told me this 
morning that he was going next to Virginia City. Of 
course I also have business engagements there. (Tim 
whistles outside?) 



ALL. IS FAIR IN LOVE. 2$ 

{They start away from each other. Enter Tim, r., 
grinning?) 

Tim. The carnage is at the dure, Mr. Mer — Spiers, 
yer honor. 

Lottie (to Tim, laughing). Look out, my fine fellow. 
(To Spiers.) I will be ready in a moment, Mr. Spiers. 
(To Tim.) You see /know my lesson. 

(Exeunt Mr. Spiers and Tim, r.) 

Lottie (throiving a kiss /<?Aunt Prue, who, with her 
head thrown back in her chair and her month open, is 
snoring loudly). By, by, auntie ; pleasant may thy 
dreams be. (Exit, l.) 

CURTAIN. 



26 ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 



ACT II. 

Scene. — Hotel parlor at Virginia City. {Costumes 

for this Act are the same as in Act I.) Enter Tim, r., 

looking eagerly about. 

Tim. Shure no, and she's not here yit. (Sighs.) 
Bless me buttons, but I wish she'd come. Shure Mis- 
ther Merle — och, blast me buttons! — Shpiers, jist 
kapes me a-running in an' out o' this parlor to see if 
she's come dune the stairs jist, whiles he stands around 
on one leg looking that lonesome after her, 'twould 
make your heart ache jist to look at him. Shure, an' 
it's jolly larks we's had the last two weeks, sich times 
in owld Chicagie ; och, but I wish we were back there 
ag'in. Well, I'll go and tell him shure his swateheart is 
nowhere about. (Going, r.) 

(Enter Lottie, l.) 

Lottie (comi?ig to a). O Tim, is that you ? Good- 
morning ; have you seen Mr. Spiers this morning, Tim ? 

Tim (returning to a). Och, miss, have I sane him ? 
Well, if you'll belave me, he's kept me running to look 
for you ever since the breakfast was over. 

Lottie. Well, where is he now? 

Tim, Out on the veranda, looking as lonesome as 
a pigeon in a shnow shtorrm. Whatever was the matter 
wid ye this morning ? 

Lottie. I know I am a little late, but I had a dress- 



ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 2J 

maker to attend to this morning, and — {Enter Spiers, 
r.) Ah, there he comes. You may go now. 

Mr. Spiers {comes to c. and takes Lottie's hand). 
Yes, go now, Tim. 

Tim {aside as he goes). Och, yis, they're moighty 
fast to say, "go now, Tim," but, for all their shlyness, 
it's meself knows well what they'll be up to the minute 
me back is turrnecl on 'em. {Exit, r.) 

(Mr. Spiers and Lottie embrace ; he then leads her 
to a seat beside him on the sofa.) 

Mr. Spiers. It did seem as if you would never get 
down-stairs this morning. But where are your father 
and Aunt Prue ? 

Lottie. Oh, Aunt Prue is somewhere about. You 
know she and I have long ago given up trying to keep 
track of each other. In fact, she has looked upon me 
as something quite beyond her management ever since 
that day I went off with you and left her sleeping in hfir 
chair. 

Mr. Spiers. Oh, yes, I remember about that. 
How long did she sleep there, do you suppose ? 

Lottie. Sure enough, I never told you about that. 
As soon as I returned to the hotel, I ran up to the 
parlor, and there she was just as I had left her. It 
was dinner-time, you know, so I was forced to waken 
her. She saw my street dress, looked at her watch, 
and took in, of course, how basely I had deserted her. 
Poor auntie, she has merely pretended to look after 
me ever since. 

Mr. Spiers. Well, you are in no danger of not 



28 ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 

being cared for ; but you did not tell me where your 
father is. I have not seen him at all this morning. 

Lottie. He has joined a party who ' ; do " the 
mines this morning. They had an early breakfast and 
went off immediately afterward. 

Mr. Spiers. You must not forget I have arranged 
for a party for that same purpose to-morrow. 

Lottie. No, I have not forgotten. In fact, papa 
was quite put out with me because I would not go with 
him this morning. I did not tell him to-morrow's party 
was of your arranging. 

Mr. Spiers. If you had, he would have excused you 
willingly, I think. 

Lottie. Of course he would, but I just felt per- 
verse enough not to tell him. {Looking at him archly?) 
In fact, I shall do nothing to encourage the ridiculous 
influence you have acquired over him. 

Mr. Spiers {laughing). Oh, indeed, perhaps you can 
manage in some way to break it up. 

Lottie. Something must be done, for, if you'll 
believe me, he told me last night that nothing would 
give him greater pleasure than to see me Mrs. Spiers. 

Mr. Spiers {laughing) . And what answer did you 
make ? 

Lottie. I told him he could hardly expect me to 
marry Mr. Spiers until he asked me. 

Mr. Spiers. And that you know he'll never do. 

Lottie. See how poor papa is deluded. He declares 
that Mr. Spiers is ready to throw himself at my feet 
if I will only be kind and give him the opportunity. 

Mr. Spiers {laughing). Cruel girl, to be so chary of 



ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 2g 

opportunities ! But what did you say in reply to all 
this. 

Lottie (sighing). Oh, of course, I went on in the 
usual strain. I declared that I should never marry 
any one but Ernest Merle, and that if he still continued 
to withhold his consent, I should be as obdurate as 
himself and would remain an old maid forever. 

Mr. Spiers. Oh, you dear, brave girl ! But, indeed, 
I hardly see the need of your talking so decisively to 
him and making him angry. 

Lottie (excitedly). I tell you something's got to be 
done with him. He's so determined that I shall marry 
Mr. Spiers. If he keeps on you'll have to go away, or 
else I disclose the whole thing. Oh, but I was fright- 
ened, he was so angry. 

Mr. Spiers. Because you declared your intention 
of marrying only Ernest Merle ? 

Lottie (tearfully). Yes ; he strode around the 
room, and vowed I should never marry Ernest Merle 
while he lived. (Sobs?) O Ernest, he flew at me like 
a wild man, and shouted in my ear, "You ungrateful 
girl, you shall never marry that young aristocrat until 
I am under the ground." 
(At these words Mr. Spiers starts up in much excitement 

and walks away. Lottie buries her face in her hand- 
kerchief, and sobs aloud.) 

Mr. Spiers (returning and laying his hand on 
Lottie's bowed head). Lottie, stop and tell me calmly 
if -those were his very words. 

Lottie (looking up). Of course they were, but why 
do you look so ? Surely you do not wish him dead ? 
(Shrinking from him.) 



30 ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 

Mr. Spiers. No, no ; but can't you see the advarh 
tage his words give us ? 

Lottie {angrily). How can you talk so ? He shan't 
die ; he is as strong and as well as I am, and he is by 
no means an old man. O Ernest, I didn't think you'd 
be so cruel as to want my only parent to die, even for 
the sake of getting me. (Sobs.) 

Mr. Spiers (dropping o?i his knees beside her). My 
darling, you misunderstand me altogether. Isn't he 
under the ground to-day ? And much farther, too, than 
he is ever likely to be again. 

Lottie (starting up and clasping her hands). Oh, 
now I catch your meaning. 

Mr. Spiers (rising and putting his arm about her). 
Well, then, put on your bonnet while I order the car- 
riage. We'll visit the minister, dearest, within half an 
hour. 

Lottie. But — but — you know, Ernest, he didn't 
mean it in that way. Isn't it unfair to take advantage 
of him in that way ? 

Mr. Spiers. Unfair ? Certainly not. Have you 
forgotten " all is fair in love " ? Now be ready in half 
an hour. Good-day to the future Mrs. Spiers, other- 
wise Mrs. Merle. (Bows low, kisses his hand and 
exit, r.) 

Lottie (slowly coming to a). I see he is determined 
to have his own way this time. Dear me, what will 
papa say ? (Stands in thought?) 

CURTAIN 



ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 3 1 



ACT III. 

Scene. — The same as in last Act. (Costumes, the same 
as in last Act, except for Lottie, who wears a hand- 
some summer street costume, with light wrap and hat.) 
Enter Mr. Neal, l. 

Mr. Neal. Where can Lottie be, I wonder? I 
have been at home an hour ; dinner is over, and still 
she is not here. That blundering Irish boy, Tim, says 
she went off this morning with Mr. Spiers. It's strange 
what keeps them away beyond the dinner hour. How- 
ever, I may as well make myself easy about her since 
she's with Spiers. (Takes up a paper and sits, r. c.) 
How I do wish she would take a fancy to him. I 
don't see how in the world she can help it. He is far 
superior to that upstart Merle, according to my way 
of thinking. Of course I didn't allow myself to be- 
come very well acquainted with Merle. In fact, I never 
thought very much about him ; just saw him come and 
go at the house like the other youngsters, until that 
morning he came and asked me for my daughter. 
Oh, the impudence of it ! He knew I hated his father. 
Well, at least, I had the satisfaction of giving him a 
curt refusal. Give him my daughter ? Not a bit of it. 
If she is determined to marry no one but him, she may 
pass her clays in single blessedness. Of course — 
I am liable — to die. Ha, I see how it will be! as 
soon as I am under the sod they will marry, even if 



32 ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 

they are fifty years old. Merle is just the kind of a 
fellow to wait all his life for the girl he wants. Well, 
there is one satisfaction that I can and will have ; they 
shall not spend a cent of my hard-earned money. No, 
sir; I'll make my will, and I'll arrange it so that she'll 
have to choose between my money and Merle. Of 
course she'll take Merle, trust her for that, the stubborn 
chit. I don't suppose they'll miss my money so very 
much, since Merle has a fair fortune of his own, but 
I'll have the satisfaction of knowing that no one by the 
name of Merle can handle a cent of my money. But 
life is uncertain. Although I am hale and strong, who 
can tell what may happen ? I believe {rises and lays 
doiu7i the paper) I'll go at once and hunt up a lawyer. 
I'll have the will all made and witnessed before the 
sun goes down. It's a wonder I never thought of the 
matter before. But it's not too late now, and I'll show 
that upstart Merle — {Enter Lottie and Mr. Spiers, 
r.) Oh, here you are at last ! Another moment %nd 
I should have missed you, for I was going down town. 
So you've been off junketing as well as the old gentle- 
man. Well, I hope you've had a gay time. {Aside.) 
I've half a mind to take Spiers with me to witness the 
will. 

Mr. Spiers {taking Lottie's hand and advancing 
a step or two). Mr. Neal, I beg to introduce my wife, 
Mrs. Merle. 

(Mr. Neal stands a few moments transfixed?) 

Mr. Neal {breathlessly). Your wife ? Mrs. Merle ! 
Mr. Spiers. Exactly. I — 



ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 33 

Mr. Neal (striding toward him in a threatening man- 
ner). You don't mean — you don't mean — 

Mr. Spiers (calmly). Just what I say, Mr. Neal. 
(Tears off wig and whiskers?) This lady (places 
Lottie's hand in his arm) is my wife. She is also 
Mrs. Merle. (Mr. Neal stands silent, looking from one 
to the other?) I perceive by your face that you begin 
to comprehend matters. You will say that we have 
deceived you, but I beg you to believe that I alone am 
to blame. What else could I do under the circum- 
stances ? Think for a moment, I beseech you, of your 
own "love's young dream." Yesterday you told Lottie 
that she might marry Ernest Merle when you were 
"under the ground." We have simply taken you at 
your word. Were you not under the ground to-day? 
How could you expect us to wait for that other (I hope) 
far-distant day when you are finally under the ground ? 
Let me say further that you liked me as Mr. Spiers, 
and were willing that Lottie should marry me. Can 
you not like me a little in my own character ? I assure 
you, Ernest Merle is quite as good a fellow as " Spiers, 
the book-agent." 

Lottie (coming forward and laying her hand on her 
fathers arm). O papa, do forgive us ! You have long 
scorned Ernest for his father's sake, try now to like 
him, if ever so little, for his own. 

(Mr. Neal turns about and walks to c, with his head 
down. Lottie returns and takes her husband's arm. 
Mr. Neal then faces them.) 

Mr. Neal. When a man is completely beaten, I 



34 ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 

suppose the best thing he can do is to submit as grace- 
fully as possible, but I've more than half a mind to call 
you Mr. and Mrs. Spiers to the end of my days. 

Lottie {advancing with Merle to a). Oh, no, papa, 
spare me that punishment, I beg of you. Think of it, 
that dreadful name ! {Enter Aunt Prue, l.) But here 
comes Aunt Prue, we must explain the situation to 
her. 

Aunt Prue {very loud ivhile coming to a). What's 
going on ? Why, Lottie, what have you done with Mr. 
C res well ? I saw you come home with him, but I don't 
know this gentlemen at all. {Looks into Mr. Merle's 
face sharply?) 

Mr. Neal {very loud). This is Lottie's husband, 
Mr. Merle. 

Aunt Prue. An English earl ! Oh, my sakes ! 
{Courtesies very low three times.) Glad to meet you, sir, 
very glad, I'm sure. I'm descended from an English 
earl myself. My great-great-grandmother's cousin was 
an English earl. Maybe you've heard of him. Let — 
me — see — Oh, I cannot remember his name, now ; 
but — Lottie, you shouldn't hang on to the gentleman's 
arm that way, even if he is an English earl. Girls 
didn't do so in my time, I tell you. 

Lottie. Oh, bother ! But, papa, dear {she goes to 
Mr. Neal a?id lays her hand upon his arm ; at which 
Aunt Prue nods her head vigorously, and, coming to the 
front, says, in an aside, " that looks better, decidedly bet- 
ter"), do say that you forgive us. 

Mr. Merle {holding out his hand). Yes, my dear 
sir, surely you have not forgotten " all is fair in love." 



ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE. 35 

(At this point Tim enters at l., and keeping well in the 
rear, goes through with a dumb show, expressive of his 
understanding of, and delight in, the situation. Con- 
tinues this by -play throughout the rei7iainder of 'the Act.) 
Mr. Neal (giving a hand to each). Well, you are a 

pair of conspirators, but I am forced to admit " all is 

fair in love." 

Lottie. Yes, indeed, papa, " all is fair in love, even 

a Mr. Spiers. 

Mr. "Neal. Yes, or a Mrs. Spiers. 

CURTAIN. 



"W. H." 

%L Jarce in ©tu &ct. 

CHARACTERS. 
Mr. Mertil. 

Mrs. Mertil. 

Jane A servant 

Miss Feltonbough . . . A " woma?i suffragist" 



COSTUMES. 

Mr. Mertil, ordinary business suit. 

Mrs. Mertil, neat home dress. 

Jane, calico dress, long white apron. 

Miss Feltonbough, plain dark dress, quite short; outside 
wraps and bonnet very plain, brown veil, a wig of short sandy 
hair, cotton gloves. This character must be a large (not 
fleshy) masculine-looking woman. 



W. H." 



Scene. — A sitting-room or parlor. Enter, r., Mr. 
Mertil wearing his overcoat, hat, and gloves ; he car- 
ries a written postal card conspicuously in his hand. 
Comes to c. 

Mr. Mertil. I thought I should find my wife here. 
Of course she doesn't expect me ; she thinks I am in 
New York to-day. Well I'll lay her postal here on the 
table. {Goes to table at r., fro?it, and lays down the 
card?) She will be sure to see it there. H'm, that's a 
bold-looking handwriting for a lady, I hadn't observed 
it before ; some advertisement probably. I wonder who 
her correspondent can be. {Takes ip the card and turns 
it over, reads.) " City, Tuesday, a.m. Dearest F — ." 
Well, I didn't know she had any friends intimate enough 
to address her as " dearest Fannie," that must be what 
the "F." is intended for. Let me see what the signa- 
ture is. {Reads.) " G. F." Ah ! {starts and looks suspi- 
cious), surely that cannot be our friend George Foster ? 
And he was once a sweetheart of hers too. But let me 
see what he says. {Reads.) " I couldn't get the ' W. H.' 
to-day, but I'll be there to-morrow at three o'clock, 
sharp. Be ready. Yours as ever, G. F." {Striding 
about excitedly.) This was written yesterday, so he'll 



40 "W. H. 

be here this afternoon. {Looks at card again.) And 
the "W. H." what can that be ? Ah, I have it, I have 
it. {Excitedly.) Foster has just bought a new horse that 
he always speaks of as the " White Horse" of course 
that is what is meant by the " W. H." And this after- 
noon ; oh, well, I'll be here to spoil that pretty game. 
You'll not ride after the " white horse " this afternoon, 
my pretty lady. But, first, I'll go put this postal card 
back under the door where I found it. She must never 
know that I have seen it. {Exit, r.) 

{Enter Mrs. Mertil, l., comes to c.) 

Mrs. Mertil (sighs). Dear me, I am so lonesome 
this afternoon. (Goes to chair near table and sits.) But 
it must be nearly time for the postman, and perhaps I 
shall get a nice letter to charm away my melancholy 
mood. (Takes up paper.) 

(Enter Mr. Mertil, r., sees his wife.) 

Mr. M. (aside). Ha ! my wife is here, I must con- 
trol myself. (To her.) Well, Fannie, here I am quite 
unexpectedly. 

Mrs. M. (starting up and running to him): O Harry, 
what a pleasure ! How glad I am to see you! (They 
embraced) 

Mr. M. (aside): What an excellent actress she is, 
indeed! but of course she hasn't seen the postal yet. 

Mrs. M. (taking off his hat and gloves). But how 
did you happen to get home ? (Carries the hat and gloves 
to table while Mr. M. removes his outer coat and hangs it 
o?i a tripod or other convenience in a comer.) 

Mr. M. Well, you see my business all moved off 
with unusual smoothness. (Both return to c.) 



"W. H. 41 

Mrs. M. {putting her hand on his arm). And I was 
just hoping the postman would bring me a letter from 
you. By the way, it must be time for him. 

Mr. M. Yes, he was just crossing the street as I 
came up the steps (aside), which is quite true. 

Mrs. M. Oh, then, I'll run into the hall and see if 
I have any mail. (Exit r.) 

Mr, M. Evidently her husband is not her only- 
correspondent. Well (walking about moodily), how 
often have I said jokingly that a man who comes home 
unexpectedly takes his fate in his own hands. Little 
did I imagine I would ever realize the truth of my idle 
words. (Sighs.) 

(Enter Jane, l.) 

Jane. Oh, Mr. Mertil, you frightened me. I didn't 
know you were at home. I am looking for Mrs. 
Mertil. 

Mr. M. She went into the hall a moment ago. 

Jane (turning to go). Oh, well, I can wait. 

Mr. M. Don't be in a hurry, Jane, I want to speak 
to you. (Aside.) How shall I approach her ? (To her.) 
You are a very good girl, Jane (takes a roll of bills from 
his pocket), and I would like very much indeed to make 
you a little present. 

Jane (inter rup ting sharply). I don't want any of 
your little presents, so please keep them to yourself, 
sir. 

Mr. M. (aside). H'm, spirited. Well, it will not do 
to stop now. (To her.) Jane, don't be offended when 
no offence was intended. I simply want to ask a favor 
of you, and, as you have always been so good a girl 



42 "W. H. 

and have done many little kindnesses for Mrs. Mertil, 
I think you really deserve a little extra pay now and 
then, that is all. 

Jane. I am willing to do you the favor if I can, but 
I don't want any pay for it : so make it known quick, 
for I am in a great hurry with my work. 

Mr. M. Well, then, tell me this. Who are the most 
frequent visitors here when I am away ? 

Jane. That's easy enough to tell. Mrs. Jones, I 
think, comes the most often of any one, then Mrs. 
Binns comes quite often too, and there's — 

Mr. M. But, among iny friends, whom do you 
remember seeing? 

Jane {surprised). Your friends? Why, indeed, sir, 
I don't remember as any of your friends come to see 
Mrs. Mertil. Why should they ? 

Mr. M. {embarrassed). Oh, they might come to — er 
— to — er — call, you know. There's Mr. Foster, 
now, you know him, don't you ? 

Jane. Oh, yes, sir, I know him : but I've never seen 
him here except of an evening with his wife, and when 
you were at home, sir, too. 

Mr. M. Oh, well, that is all, Jane. You are sure you 
have named all of my wife's intimate friends ? 

Jane {reflecting). Well, yes, I think so, sir. Oh, 
there's Miss Feltonbough. She's here pretty often. 

Mr. M. Feltonbough ! Why, that is some one I 
never heard of before ; she must be a very new ac- 
quaintance. Who is she, and what is she like ? 

Jane {laughing). Well, sir, she's funny enough. I've 
never seen her face, for she always wears a heavy veil : 



"w. h." 43 

but she has a funny form and funny ways. She seems 
just like a man with a woman's toggery on. 

Mr. M. (aside). Ah ! can it be the girl has blundered 
into the truth ? I begin to fear it, for Foster is a small 
man, and in woman's clothes would look very like an 
overgrown female. (To Jane.) But you may go now, 
Jane, and if you will please not to tell any one of the 
questions I have asked you, I will be very grateful to 
you. 

Jane. All right, sir, I will remember. {Exit, l.) 
(Enter Mrs. M., r., weari?ig a white apron.) 

Mr. M. Well, my dear, you have been a good while. 
Have you been giving chase to the mail-carrier ? 

Mrs. M. (laughing). Oh, no. I went up-stairs to 
put on a fresh collar and this apron. Isn't it pretty ? 
It is one that I have just finished. 

Mr. M. Very pretty, indeed. But my dear, could 
you have Jane make me a cup of tea ? I have eaten 
nothing since breakfast except a light lunch taken on 
the train. 

Mrs. M. I will make it for you myself ; come into 
the dining-room with me, and I will refresh you, you 
poor, hungry man. (Takes his arm affectionately?) How- 
stupid of me not to think sooner that you might 
possibly be hungry. {Exit, l.) 

(Enter Jane, r., carrying an illustrated paper.) 

Jane. So she isn't here, either. Well, if I can't 
find her I am not to blame. I've been all over the 
house, so I'll jist sit down here and read a while. 
(Sits.) I'm glad enough to get a minute's time to read, 
for I'm right in the midst of this chapter where that 



44 "w. h." 

dreadful old stepfather carries off the beautiful Ada. 
But, what on earth can have got into Mr. Mertil to ask 
me so many questions about his wife's callers? I've 
lived here more than a year, and I never knew him to 
do such a thing before. He seemed to think there 
was something queer about Miss Feltonbough, and 
that's just what I have thought this long time. Why 
does she always keep her veil down, and why does Mrs. 
Mertil- take her up to her own room instead of taking 
her to the parlor or sitting-room as she does with her 
other callers ? There's something queer about it, and 
the queerest thing of all is, that Mr. Mertil is so suspi- 
cious. (Sits lost in thought a moment, then starts up 
suddenly, dropping paper?) Oh, oh, I just thought of it ! I 
do believe she is a man dressed up in woman's clothes ; 
wouldn't that be awful? What an exciting time there 
would be. Better than any story. {Bell rings.) There, 
maybe she is here now. Well, I'll just watch out a 
little. {Runs out, r.) 

{Enter Mrs. Mertil, l.) 

Mrs. M. I suppose Jane has gone to the door. 
Dear me, what if it should be she ? {lakes postal card 
from pocket?) Yes, she says at three o'clock {looks at 
watch), and it now lacks only a few minutes of that 
hour. I hope Jane will have sense enough to take her 
up-stairs as usual. Harry will not go up there, now, I 
think, for he said he was in a hurry to go down town as 
soon as he is done eating. 

{Enter Jane, r.) 

Jane. Mrs. Mertil, the man has come to mend the 
window-sash in your room. Shall I send him up ? 



w. h. 45 

Mrs. M. (nervously). Why, yes, Jane, of course ; 
but, clear me, the room will be cold with the window 
out {exit Jane, r.), and, of course, I shall have to 
entertain her in here. Dear me, I wish poor Harry 
would hurry away. But I must go back and see if he 
has finished his lunch. (Exit, l.) 

(Enter Jane, r., laughing.) 

Jane. Oh dear, oh dear, how funny to have that man 
come now of all times when we've been waiting for him 
for a whole week. I just know by the way Mrs. Mertil 
acts that she expects Miss Feltonbough. Well, I don't 
wonder she's nervous with her bedroom window out and 
that man up- stairs too. Oh, how I hope Mr. Mertil will 
not go away, until after she comes. Why, it's grand, 
just like a story. 

(Enter Mrs. Mertil, l.) 

Mrs. M. Did you take the man up-stairs, Jane ? 

Jane. Yes'm. 

Mrs. M. Well, I must go up and look after him a 
little. (Exit hastily, r.) 

(Enter Mr. M., l.) 

Mr. M. Oh, Jane, you are the very one that I most 
want to see. Where do Mrs. Mertil and Miss 
Feltonbough sit when she is here ? 

Jane. Always up-stairs, sir ; but if she should happen 
to come to-day they'll have to sit in here, because, you 
see, the man is mending the window up-stairs, and the 
room is cold. Mrs. Mertil would never take her into 
the parlor, because other callers are liable to come in, 
and Miss Feltonbough is so funny looking, you know. 

Mr. M. Oh, yes, I see ; well, I have good reason to 



46 "w. h." 

think Miss Feltonbough is coming to-day. So I'll just 
go over to the drug store and watch for her appearance. 
When I see her I'll come back and be introduced to 
her. But you needn't mention the matter to Mrs. 
Mertil, for I want it to be a surprise to her. Now 
remember ! {Exit, r.) 

Jane {clapping her hands and dancing about). Oh, yes, 
I'll remember. Dear me, how interesting and exciting 
it is all getting. Oh, I do hope Miss Feltonbough is a 
man. Talk about stories ! 

{Enter Mrs. M., r.) 

Mrs. M. Jane, where is Mr. Mertil ? 

Jane. He came through here and I heard the front 
door shut soon after. 

Mrs. M. {goes to l.). He must be gone then. 
{Aside?) Gone without a single word of good-by to me. 
What in the world can have come over him ? Surely, 
I cannot have offended him in any way. Well, he is 
safely out of Miss Feltonbough's way : there is some 
consolation in that, at least. She will certainly be here 
soon. {Bell rings ; to Jane.) Go to the door, Jane, 
and if that is Miss Feltonbough bring her in here. 
{Exit Jane, r.) Dear me, I have had a narrow escape, 
indeed. She and Harry might easily have met on the 
doorstep. Well, I don't believe I'll take any more such 
risks, not even for the sake of — {Enter Miss Felton- 
bough, r. ; she carries a large book?) And so you have 
come. {They shake hands. Miss F. sits in a chair 
which Mrs. M. places at c, with back towards r. 
entrance ; she gives the book to Mrs. M. and then removes 
her bonnet and veil, which Mrs. M. lays on the table?) 



"w. h." 47 

And so this wonderful book is in my hands at last ! 
(Opens and reads from title page.) "The Woman's 
Hierarchy, by Miss Georgiana Feltonbough." How 
lovely that I should at last know a real live authoress. 
Oh, what fun it must be to be able to write books. 
{Turns leaves of book and keeps her eyes on if.) 

Miss Feltonbough (in a hard, nasal tone). Fun ! 
Much you know about it! If you could only imagine 
the days and nights of thought and toil represented by 
that book. 

(Mr. M. enters, cautiously, r.) 

Mr. M. (aside). Yes, yes, that is he ; I know that 
shock of sandy hair too well to make a -mistake. 

Miss Feltonbough. But of course that you can 
never understand. To your sheltered and easy life, no 
suspicion — (Mr. Mertil daslies forward, grasps Miss 
Feltonbough from behind and presses her face close 
against his vest. Mrs. M. screa??is and drops book. 
Miss F. struggles to her feet, still held by Mr. M. with 
his left arm ; with his right hand he pounds her on the 
back. Enter Jane, l. Whole situation as ludicrous as 
possible?) 

Jane (clapping her hands). Give it to him, give it 
to him, Mr. Mertil : I knew it all along, I did, I did. 

Mrs. M. (shocked). Give it to him / Why, Jane, 
what on earth can you mean? (Goes to her husband 
and throws herself on his right arm.) O Harry, 
Harry ! do stop, you will kill the poor woman. 

Mr. Mertil (loosens his hold on Miss F., who 
straightens herself and confrofits him). Oh, oh ! why it 
isn't — (Turns away and drops his head.) 



48 "w. H." 

Mrs. M. {following him and putting her hand on his 
arm). Isn't what ? O Harry, do explain yourself. 
I knew you were opposed to " Woman Suffrage," but 
I did not suppose you would ever carry your dislike 
so far as this. (Sods.) O Harry, I know I did 
wrong to deceive you, but I wanted so much to join the 
society, and Miss Feltonbough is so good when you 
come to know her. (Sods.) 

Mr. M. (aside, as he goes to l. a). Oh, I see it all 
now. I have made a most egregious fool of myself, 
beside incurring the wrath of that stormy female. 

Miss Feltonbough (putting on her hat, etc.). Now, 
Mrs. Mertil, I think I have seen quite enough of the 
government of your home. I'll trouble you to pick up 
my " Woman's Hierarchy " and hand it to me. 
(Mrs. M. complies, and goes toward Miss F., wiping 
her eyes.) 

Mr. M. (aside). Fool, fool, that I have been. " W. 
H." was only a book after all, and I was so sure it 
meant " White Horse." Why will people use abbrevia- 
tions when writing on postal cards ? 

Miss Feltonbough (tucking the book under her arm). 
And now, Mr. Mertil, you may rest assured I am not 
done with you yet. I shall send an officer here before 
I sleep, to arrest you for assault and battery. 

Mr. Mertil (coming to Miss F.). What can I say 
to you ? I am aware that no amount of apology can 
excuse my conduct in your eyes. I can only say that 
in making this most unprovoked assault upon you I 
was laboring under the most foolish mistake that I ever 
made in my life. 



" w. h. 49 

Miss Feltonbough {coldly). I don't know how 
foolish it was, but you'll find out to your sorrow that it 
was the most serious mistake you ever made in your 
life. 

Mr. M. Well, now, Miss F., let's come to some 
settlement. Of course the law will give you damages, 
but we may as well cheat the lawyers and courts out of 
their fees and settle the thing for ourselves. {Takes 
checkbook from his pocket.) Jane, go and get the pen 
and ink. {Exit Jane, l.) Now, Miss Feltonbough, 
just say how much you will take to drop the matter ? 

Miss Feltonbough. I am not to be bought, sir. 
Indeed, no amount can pay me for the indignity that I 
have suffered at your hands. 

{Enter Jane with pen and ink. Mr. M. sits at table and 
prepares to write.) 

Mr. M. That is true, but the courts would give you 
damages which I am sure you would not refuse, and of 
course you can always use money for " the cause." 
Come, now, I am sure you can use two hundred dollars 
to good advantage. ( Writes rapidly .) 

Miss F. {smiling). Yes, indeed, Mr. Mertil, I can 
do a great deal with so generous a sum. 

Mr. M. {aside). Buy herself some decent toggery, 
I hope, poor thing. {To her.) There, Miss Felton- 
bough, there is my check, and my humble apologies 
with it. {Rises and hands check.) 

Miss F. {taking it). And don't you want my receipt 
exonerating you from all claims from me ? 

Mr. M. Not at all. I know you are an honorable 
woman and will never refer to the matter again. 



50 "w. h." 

Mrs. M. {coming to Mr. M.). O Harry, I am sure 
you have done all that any one could ask, but you have 
not said yet that you forgive me. 

Mr. M. {putting his arm about her). It is you who 
must forgive me. I have acted like a brute and an 
idiot, but henceforth you may attend the " Woman's 
Suffrage " meetings whenever you please, and I will 
ask Miss Feltonbough to see that you are made a life- 
member of the society. 

Miss F. (offering her hand). Oh, sir, how can I 
thank you enough ? 

Jane {corning to l. a). So he wasn't a man after all. 
What a stupid, tiresome lot they are, anyway ! 

CURTAIN. 



A CHANGE OF COLOR. 



% ©rama in <®w %LtU 



CHARACTERS. 
Harold Grey . . A wealthy young gentleman, fond of 

verse-making 
Jim ........ His Irish servant 

Nellie Browne ..... A young lady 

Lettie Ross ..... Her intimate friend 

Ellen Brown . . . Irish servant in Nellie's home 



COSTUMES. 
Harold, neat business suit. 
Jim, common working clothes. 
Nellie, tasteful home costume. 
Lettie, the same. 
Ellen, neat working dress. 




A CHANGE OF COLOR. 



Scene. — A parlor or sitting-room. (Nellie and Let- 
tie are discovered seated, C, in rocking-chairs, and busy 
with fancy wo?'k.) 

Lettie. It has just occurred to me, Nellie, it is two 
months to-day since you received that valentine. 

Nellie. Why, so it is. How good you are at 
remembering dates. {Aside.) She little imagines how 
well /remember it. 

Lettie. And do you still think Harold Grey 
sent it ? 

Nellie. Do I still think he sent it ? As if I ever 
thought so, Lettie. 

Lettie {laughing). Oh, come, now, Nellie : there's 
no use of your playing off on me in that way. 

Nellie {very gravely). What do you mean, Lettie ? 
Did I ever say he sent it ? 

Lettie. Certainly not. Oh, you sly puss ! people 
don't always need to say things in order to be under- 
stood. 

Nellie. You seem to forget that it was you who 
suggested Harold Grey, simply because he was the only 
young gentleman who lived opposite my home. 



54 A CHANGE OF COLOR. 

Lettie {laughing). Oh, you delicious piece of 
innocence ! of course I don't forget, neither do I forget 
how very easily you were convinced. 

Nellie {angrily). Perhaps, though, you forget how 
much trouble you took to bring about my introduction 
to the young gentleman ? 

Lettie {leaning forward, and patting Nellie on the 
knee). Come, now, Nellie, don't be vexed with me ; I'll 
not tease you any more. Of course I worked hard to 
bring about an acquaintance between you, and I am 
sure he, poor fellow, has worked quite as hard to keep 
it up. 

Nellie {sarcastically). You were very kind. 

Lettie {soothingly). There, Nellie, don't let us 
quarrel over Harold Grey. Indeed, if we do, I shall 
wish we had never either of us heard of him ; but, 
honestly, Nellie, the next best thing to winning the 
young gentleman's favor myself, was to see him smile 
on you, as he has been doing for the last two months. 

Nellie {sarcastically). Perhaps it is not too late 
yet, for you to make a conquest of him yourself. 

Lettie {sweetly). Now, Nellie, dear, don't make any 
more of those sharp speeches. I know, and so do you, 
that he is up to his eyes in love with you ; and you know 
also that I'm not a bit envious of you. 

{E?iter r., Ellen Brown hastily, and carrying a 
crumpled sheet of note paper.) 

Nellie {throwing her arm about Lettie). You are 
a dear good girl, Lettie, and I — 

Ellen {advancing c, speaking excitedly). Shure, Miss 



A CHANGE OF COLOR. 5 5 

Nellie, wull ye read this? (Extends paper. Both girl; 
jump front their chairs, dropping fancy work.) 

NkluM^^- Oh, what is it? 

Ellen {more quietly). Oh, ut's nothing furye's to be 
seairt of, young ladies. Shure I jist wants ter axe ye, 
Miss Nellie, did ye get a valentoine last winter begin- 
ning loike this, — 

" Moi pretty colleen bawn, 
Smoiling like the summer dawn." 

Nellie {laughing, and dropping into her chair again). 
No, indeed, Ellen, I did not ; I am sure I am no one's 
" colleen bawn." (Ellen turns away, throws her apron 
over her head, and drops into the chair vacated by Lettie.) 

Lettie. Was there ever anything so funny ? Have 
you broken the heart of some wild Irishman, Miss 
Nellie ? 

Ellen {sobbing aloud'). Och, it's desaved I am, 
entoirely ! (Lettie and Nellie^ to Ellen. Nellie 
puts her hand on her shoulder^) 

Nellie. Tell me all about your trouble, Ellen. 
Perhaps I may be able to help you in some way. 

Ellen {wipes her eyes, and removes the apro?i, but sobs 
frequently as she goes on with her recital). It's like this, 
Miss : Jimmie end me's been kinder oft since iver St. 
Valentoine's day — 

Lettie (impatiently). But, who is Jimmie ? 

Nellie. Don't interrupt her, he's — 

Ellen {pertly to Lettie). Shure he's me shpark. 
Miss, art a loikely one he is, too. (Aside.) An' a 
loikelier one than she'll ever pick up, I'm a-thinking, 



56 A CHANGE OF COLOR. 

unless she mends her manners, (To Nellie.) Ye see, 
I jist give him the oowld showlder, case never a scrip 
nor a scrap of a valentoine came from him. So he nivei 
axed no ixplanashuns of me, but jist kept out o' me wo I, 
which same is quoite loike him. To-day we meets in 
the parrk, quoite be chance ; and I says, kinder shwate 
loike, Good-morning, Jimmie. Och ! but he was by me 
side that quick. Then he says, bold and suddin loike, 
"So ye didn't think much o' the valentoine I sint ye." 
Valentoine, I says, pretty shtiff, an' ye know ye niver 
sint me wan. And thin he said he did ; so I made him 
dishcribe it, and shure it wasn't a way bit loike the 
mane stingy wans I got at all, at all. Thin he says 
riixt, and I got Misther Grey to write some shwate 
poitry — 

Nellie. Mr. Grey ! not Mr. Harold Grey, so lately 
moved across the street? 

Ellen. The very same, miss. 

Lettie. But how does young Jimmie know him? 

Ellen. Och ! bless ye, Miss, me Jimmie has worrked 
there iver sinse he was a way laddie. And shure (look- 
ing down bashfully) 'tis for that Misther Grey happens 
to be living over there : me Jimmie found the house 
empty, and he thought 'twould be so handy, yon 
know. 

Lettie. Evidently Mr. Jimmie has a good head for 
planning. 

Nellie. But about the poetry, Lettie, did you know 
that Harold Grey writes poetry ? 

Lettie. Indeed, it is news to me. Aren't you 
mistaken about it, Ellen ? 



A CHANGE OF COLOR. 57 

Ellen {scornfully to Lettie). Mistaken ? well I guess 
not ; what me Jimmie doesn't know about Misther 
Harold Grey, you needn't try to foind out. {To 
Nellie.) But his poitry is in all the papers, with some 
other name tul it that I disremember now ; but me 
Jimmie could tell you. 

Nellie {eagerly). Oh, do find out for me, 
Ellen ! 

Ellen. Shure and I will, Miss, to plaze you ; but let 
me tell the rest of me story. When I said that I niver 
got no valentoine the loikes o' that, Jimmie whipped 
this bit o' paper out o' his pocket, an' he said them was 
the same words as Misther Grey wrote in the valentoine. 
And then, he says, Misther Grey directed it all shtraight 
to Miss Nellie Brown. So, I says, Och, you blunderin' 
b'y ! no one calls me Nellie but your own silly self, so 
it's shtraight to Miss Nellie the poor valentoine wint. 
So I comes to ye, Miss, and ye says ye niver got 
no sech words at all, at all ; an it's a lyin' desavin' 
scamp me Jimmie is afther all. {Buries her face, 
and sobs.) 

Nellie (aside to Lettie). All this is very strange. 
I certainly did not get her valentine. (To Ellen.) 
Will you let me see the paper, Ellen ? (Ellen hands it 
to her, and again buries her face, and continues to sob. A 
bell rings.) 

Nellie (to Ellen). Hurry, Ellen, and see who is at 
the door. (Exit Ellen, r., hurriedly, wiping her eyes as 
she goes.) 

Nellie (to Lettie, who looks over her shoulder, and 
examines writing^) This writing is certainly done by 



58 A CHANGE OF COLOR. 

the same hand that penned my valentine. Don't you 
think so, Lettie ? 

Lettie (taking the paper}. I certainly do, which of 
course proves conclusively that Harold Grey sent 
your valentine. 

Nellie. Provided that the devoted Jimmie tells the 
truth. 

Lettie. Does he look capable of lying ? 

Nellie. What a question ! I have heard that all 
men — 

Lettie. Oh, there, spare us any cynicism, my dear ! 
but — 

Nellie. Yes, but, and this is a very large but, what 
has become of Ellen's valentine, if Jimmie sent it ? It 
is all — 

(Enter Harold, r., hastily. He is followed by Ellen. 

, "Lettie furtively lays the paper on a table at l. of c, 
ami returns to c. Ellen goes forward, snatches the 
paper, and is about to retire, r., when she stands trans- 
fixed at Harold's words?) 

Harold. Good-morning, ladies; excuse me, Miss 
Nellie, but I would like, with your permission, to talk 
with Ellen a moment about her valentine. (Nellie 
bows assent.) I have brought my man Jim with me, and, 
if you are willing, I would like to have Ellen call him 
in here. (Nellie bows, and exit Ellen.) I am very 
sorry, Miss Nellie, to trouble you with all this ; but the 
circumstances are so very peculiar, that I find myself 
forced to seek an explanation from Ellen. (Ellen 
enters followed by Jim, reluctantly and bashfully.) Now, 



A CHANGE OF COLOR. 59 

Ellen, did you receive a valentine containing some 
verses beginning, — 

" O me pretty colleen bawn ? " 

Ellen {joyfully). Thin me Jimmie didn't loi to me 
shure ? But I niver got that same valentoine at all, at 
all, an' I thought ut's desavin' me he was. {Looks side- 
ways at Jimmie, who smiles at her?) 

Harold. Then it's just as I feared. Oh, what a 
stupid blunder ! (To Nellie.) You see, I had promised 
to write some rhymes for two valentines : one for Jimmie, 
to be sent to Ellen, here (Ellen and Jim exchange smiles 
and glances), and one for an old friend of mine, to be 
sent to his Dulcinea. The latter was late in getting to 
irs destination, consequently, when my friend left the 
office, he told the boy that if a letter came bearing the 
postmark of this town, he must open it, and enclose 
whatever it contained in the envelope waiting directed 
on the desk, and then mail the same immediately. 
The office boy obeyed, and, of course, like any other 
inquisitive, conscience-lacking boy, read the verses, and 
took due note of the address. 

Ellen. Och ! the mane shcamp ! 

Harold. So, a few days after, it chanced that my 
friend most unexpectedly obtained an introduction to 
the lady in whom he felt so keen an interest. Their 
acquaintance progressed finely, until, thanks to the 
smallness of the town and the office boy's indiscretion, 
the name of the sender of this particular valentine 
reached the young lady's ears. 

Nellie. 

Lettie. 



I Oh, how delightful ! 



60 A CHANGE OF COLOR. 

Harold. Not so delightful either, for I had mixed 
the valentines in my haste, and imagine how either ot 
you would fancy being addressed by a total stranger as 

his 

" Pretty colleen bawn, 
Smiling like the summer dawn." 

T ' [• {laughing). How funny ! Oh, how funny ! 

Harold. My friend did not think it very funny, I 
assure you. The young lady wrote him a caustic note 
for presuming to claim her as his " colleen bawn." 
Then, I came in for a good round scolding for sending 
him lines of that character, when I knew the young lady 
was a stranger to him. I saw at once that I had mixed 
up the valentines in some way ; so now, Ellen, if you 
will kindly give me the valentine which was intended 
for the other fair maid, I think I can settle this matter 
all around, and prove to my friend that I still have at 
least a grain of sense left. 

Ellen. It's roight glad I'll be to help you settle the 
matter, Misther Grey, if you'll jist tell me what loike 
was the other valentoine, shure. 

Harold. Well, it was simply a sheet of heavy note 
paper, and on it some lines beginning, — 

" O maiden sweet, 
Across the street — " 

Nellie (starting forward). Why, that was my — 
Lettie (laughing). Well, of all the funny mistakes ! 
Harold (coming to Nellie, and taking her hand). 

You don't mean to say, Miss Nellie, that you received 

that silly nonsense. 



A CHANGE OF COLOR. 6l 

Nellie {withdrawing her hand, and speaking coldly). 
I certainly did receive a valentine such as you have 
just described. 

Ellen. Och, Miss Nellie, an' ye got moine afther 
all, or the one what was mixshed up wid moine. Now, 
ye see {to Jim), that's all case ye sint it to Nellie 
insted o' Ellin, jist. 

Nellie {impatiently). I ought to have known the 
letter was not for me, for Brown was spelt without an 
e. {To Harold.) But, I suppose you want your 
valentine ; I'll look it up, and if you'll call to-morrow 
I'll hand it to you. {Aside?) It's in my pocket this 
very minute, but of course I shall not tell him so. 

Harold. Oh, that will be all right, Miss Nellie. 
But, now, Jim, what can I do to straighten this matter 
between you and your " colleen " ? 

Jim {taking Ellen's arm). Faith, sur, an' we'll 
straighten it ourselves jist, though thanks to ye all the 
same. {They walk apart, and converse confidentially in 
whispers.) 

Harold. And now, dear Miss Nellie, I have no 
apology to make to you, except that the verses which 
the good St. Valentine brought to you were not worthy 
the one to whom he carried them. Thanks to St. 
Valentine, my friend's misfortune is my blessing. 

Nellie {coldly). It is all the fault of my horrid 
common name of Browne. (Harold takes her hand, 
and bends toward her tenderly?) 

Lettie {aside). It's very evident that I'm out of 
place in this crowd. Oh, if I had only a tailor's 
dummy, or even a stick, to make love to just now ! I 



62 A CHANGE OF COLOR. 

believe I'll hunt up the poker as a substitute. (Goes to 
rear, and, while watching the others, indulges in panto- 
mime until the air tain falls.) 

Harold. Since you dislike the name of Browne so 
much, Miss Nellie, why not change it to " Grey," dear 
Nellie ? Don't say you dislike " Grey " also. 

Nellie (archly). Grey always was my favorite color. 

Jim (coming forward with Ellen). Shure, Misther 
Grey, we've straightened it, sur. We're to be married 
in jist wan month from this happy day. 

Harold (shaking Jim's hand). Well clone, Jim. 
Miss Nellie and I have also " straightened it : " she has 
consented to become Mrs. Grey. (Puts his arm about 
her.) 

Nellie (saucily). How you do take things for 
granted, sir ! 

Jim. Och, bed ad, and from " Brown " to " Grey " is 
a good " change o' color ! " and may ye's niver rigrit 
that same av ye's live till ye're an hundred and a day. 
(Harold, Nellie, r. ; Jim, Ellen, l.; Lettie in rear 
c, laughing?) 

CURTAIN. 



TO MEET MR. THOMPSON. 



& farce in <®nz &ct. 



Bella 

Lou 

Ella 

Mary 

Emily 

Grace 

Julia 

Fannie 



CHARACTERS. 



The young lady hostess 



Young ladies, residents of the same toivn and 
acquainted ivith each other. They are also 
Bella's guests. 



COSTUMES. 



Any tasteful dresses that may be suitably worn at a small 
evening party. Hats and wraps are worn on entering. The 
latter should of course correspond with the season, and are 
to be laid aside at the proper time. 




TO MEET MR. THOMPSON. 



Scene. — A parlor. Eight chairs must be placed 
carelessly about so that the occupants will be within 
easy speaking distance of one another and yet not too far 
from c. Curtain rises. Bella enters l, and sits. 

Bella. To think that at last, at long, long last, this 
village really possesses a full-grown, live, rational, 
young man ! I can hardly realize it. To be sure, we 
have had Tom Jones, and Harry Spar, and John Smith, 
the first and second not yet out of their teens, the last 
a forlorn widower of forty. But now, O joy! here is an 
eligible young man of not more than twenty-three or 
four. Tall, handsome, dark-eyed, a lawyer, and with — 
Oh, such a moustache ! Dear me ! I can hardly wait until 
I see him entering the room. {A door-bell rings behind 
the scenes. Bella starts up.) Oh, I do hope that is he ! 
What a charming tete-a-tete we may have before the 
other girls get here ! {Enter Lou, r. Bella rushes to 
meet her. They embrace?) 

Bella {motioning l.). Just step in here, Lou, and 
remove your wraps, and arrange your hair. {Exit 
Lou, l.) I might have known that Lou would be the 



66 TO MEET MR. THOMPSON. 

first one on hand. Of course that is her privilege, as 
she is my most intimate friend. {Re-enter Lou, l. 
They both sit near c. as Lou speaks.) 

Lou. So, I am the first arrival. I did not expect 
to be. I thought the girls would all arrive early. O 
Bella! if you only knew the stir those invitations "to 
meet Mr. Thompson " have created in this stupid little 
burgh. 

Bella. Nonsense, Lou ! why should it ? 

Lou. Why should it ? Oh, now, Bella, don't pretend 
not to know that Mr. Thompson is the most delightful, 
most irresistible, most rare creature ever seen in this 
huddle called by courtesy a "town."" 

Bella. So you have seen him? {The bell rings. 
They both spring up, rush to centre, an / exclaim together, 
excitedly, " There he is!" Enter Ella, r. They rush 
forward, embrace Iter, and she is directed by Bella into 
the adjoining room, as was Lou. Exit Ella, l. Bella 
and Lou resume seats.) 

Lou. Of course Ella would be here on time. I 
don't suppose cables and chains could have kept her 
at home to-night. 

Bella. Well, all of my invitations have been 
accepted. I don't suppose any of the girls would miss 
coming. 

Lou. Unless it may be those whom you forgot to 
invite. 

(Ella enters in time to hear the last word.) 

Ella {sits near the others). And how many have you 
invited, Bella ? 

Bella. Only nine. 



TO MEET MR. THOMPSON. 67 

Ella} 

and >• Nine ! 

Lou. ) 

Lou. Poor Mr. Thompson ! 

Ella. He will not live to tell the tale. 

Bella. I begin to think he foresees the danger, and 
that his instincts of self-preservation are too strong to 
admit of his coming. 
{The bell rings again. They all start to their feet, 

and exclaim, " There he is /» as before. Enter Mary. 

Repeat as on Ella's entrance. Bella directs as before. 

Exit Mary, l. The others resume seats.) 

Ella. Of course Mary would come, trust her for 
that. Indeed, Bella, it is very generous of you to give 
all of us girls the pleasure of Mr. Thompson's 
acquaintance. {Enter Mary.) Almost any other girl 
would have kept his society for herself. 

Mary {approaches the others, and sits). But, we must 
have met him sometime, and, of course, she prefers to 
have the performance take place under her supervision, 
as it were. 

Lou. Then, I think she will be disappointed, for I 
don't believe he's coming.. 

{The bell rings. All start up as before, repeat exclama- 
tion, etc. Enter Emily, r. Repeat all "business" 
as on entrance of others. Exit Emily, l. Others 
resume their places.) 

Mary. Oh, I knew she would be here ! It's so long 
since she's seen a young man, she {enter Emily, l.) for- 
gets how one looks. 

' Emily {coming forward). What is that ? Who for- 
gets how what looks ? {Sits near others.) 



68 TO MEET MR. THOMPSON. 

Bella. We all have forgotten how a full-grown, live 
young man looks. 

Emily. Well, where is your curiosity? Why don't 
you bring him out ? 

Lou. We await his royal pleasure. 

{Bell as before. Repeat former business fully. Enter 
Grace, r. Repeat as for others. Exit Grace, l. 
The others resume their seats.) 

Emily. Oh, I knew Grace would come. She has 
been on what the boys call a " still hunt " for a (enter 
Grace, l.) young man for nobody knows how long. 

Grace (as she comes to the others, and sits). W r ho has 
been a young man for nobody knows how long ? Surely, 
not Mr. Thompson ? 

Bella. Oh, no ! not Mr. Thompson. 

Lou. Oh, dear, no ! not Mr. Thompson. 

ElLV No indeed ! not Mr. Thompson. 

Mary. Oh, my, no ! not Mr. Thompson. 

Emily. Why, certainly not Mr. Thompson. (These 
ansivers must be very emphatic^) 

Bella. I conclude you have not seen him, Grace ? 

Grace. Seen him ? Indeed, I haven't. I have 
heard of nothing else for the last two weeks but Mr. 
Thompson. Is he handsome ? 

All in concert. Handsome ! handsome ! Oh, oh, 
oh ! — oh, oh, oh ! 

Grace. Dear me, what a wonder he must be ! But 
why doesn't he come ? (Bell, as befo?-e. Repeat former 
" business.'" E?iier Julia, r., as before. Exit Julia, 
l. The others resume seats.) 



TO MEET MR. THOMPSON. 69 

Emily. Bella, you certainly were not on the look- 
out for beauty, when you invited Julia. 

Ella. Was she when she invited the rest of us ? 

Mary. Oh, come now, Ella ! leave that {enter 
Julia, l.) for Mr. Thompson to decide. 

Julia {taking seat). What must Mr. Thompson 
decide ? 

Grace. Which one of this flock his highness shall 
escort to her home. 

Ella. He lives the nearest to my house. Doesn't 
that give me the first claim ? 

Lou. And my home is directly on the way thither, 
so that gives me his other arm. 

Mary. Pshaw, girls ! can't you see that he is in 
gallantry bound to escort the one who lives at the 
greatest distance from here ? And her name is Mary. 

Emily. And my home is only two blocks from your 
house. 

Julia. But how can he go home with any of us, 
unless he first gets here ? 

{Bell rings. Repeat former movements, etc. Enter 
Fannie, r, as before. Exit Fannie, l. All sit 
again.) 

Grace. Now, girls, Fannie lives farther away than 
any of us. 

Julia. And if he goes home with her, he passes my 
door, so, I think {enter Fannie, l.), Fannie and I will 
have him. 

Fannie {joins others, and sits). Have whom ? Not 
Mr. Thompson ? 



yO TO MEET MR. THOMPSON. 

All {in concert and laughing). Oh, yes, Mr. Thomp- 
son ! Oh, yes, we'll all have Mr. Thompson ! 

Fannie {indignantly). Why, girls, I am surprised at 
you all. But please don't include my name. The idea 
of angling for a young man in that way ! 

Bella. O Fannie ! don't scold us ! the girls v. 
only trying to decide whom he should escort home, and 
they settled on you and Julia. 

Fannie {looking around). But where is the young 
man ? 

All. Oh, he isn't here yet ! 

Fannie. So, while you are waiting, you are settling 
the question of his attentions. You might cast lots on 
the matter. {Sarcastically?) 

Emily. I'll tell you a good plan, girls. 

All. What is it ? What is it ? 

Emily. Let him choose for himself. 

All. Oh ! oh ! 

Bella. Well, now, girls, since you have settled the 
question, I will tell you he probably will escort none of 
you home to-night, for I have invited his two sisters to 
accompany him. I knew you would be dying to meet 
them. 
{Bell rings. All exclaim, as before. A voice at right 

entrance calls loudly, " Miss Bella, here is a note for 

you / ") 

Bella. You hear that, girls ; pray excuse me a 
moment. {Exit Bella, r.) 
{The others now huddle together at c, muttering to each 

other, "Mean thing/" "She did it on purpose /" 

" Much we care for his old sisters /" " She didn't want 



TO MEET MR. THOMPSON. 7 l 

him to go home with any of us ! " " We'll pay her up ! " 
" Til invite him to my house ! " " And so will I! " The 
last exclamation in chorus. Enter Bella, r., carrying 
an open letter. They all drop quickly into their chairs, 
and are silent.) 
Bella {coming to a). Young ladies, I have just 

received this note, which I will read. {Reads.) 

"Miss Bella, — We are forced, at the last minute, by 

circumstances beyond our control, to decline your very 

courteous invitation. I will call on you to-morrow, and 

explain more fully. 

Yours with many regrets, 

Harry Thompson." 

{All rise, a? id come to c.) 

Lou. So this is the way we " meet Mr. Thompson ! " 

Ella. How charmed I have been to "meet Mr. 
Thompson ! " 

Mary. What a rare treat " to meet Mr. Thompson ! 

Emily. Oh, lovely Mr. Thompson ! 

Grace. Delightful Mr. Thompson! 

Julia. Oh, rare Mr. Thompson ! 

Fannie. Very rare, indeed ! 

All {except Bella). The next time I go out " to meet 
Mr. Thompson " — 

Bella {smiling and courtesying). Let us hope you 
will " meet Mr. Thompson." 

CURTAIN. 
{Real names may be substituted, if preferred, throughout) 



GEORGE M.sBAKER'S PLAYS. 

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1 



III 

A NEW PLAY FOR FEMAL^ ° ™ *™ °°1Z * 

.4 Companion to "REBECCA'S TRIUMPH. 

ANITA'S TRIAL; 

Or, Our Girls in Camp. 

By Esther B. Tiffany, author of "A Rice Pudding/' "That Patrick," 
"Young Mr. Pritchard," etc. 

Price, - ------ 25 cents. 

This is a bright and sparkling comedy in three acts, for eleven 
female characters. Its story is entertaining, and its dialogue dis- 
tinguished by this author's delicate humorous touch. One scene only 
is necessary for the three acts — a camp in the woods, easily arranged. 
The dresses are simple and picturesque camping costumes. The enor- 
mous success of " Rebecca's Triumph " has created a demand for this 
sort of piece, to meet which we confidently present "Anita's Trial," 
in which is solved, with no less success than in its predecessor, the 
difficult problem of constructing a play of strong human interest with- 
out the assistance of male characters. 



The O hronothanatoletro n: 

OR, OLD TIMES MADE NEW. 

An entertainment in one act for sixteen girls, written for the Class Day 
Exercises at Dana Hall School, Wellesley, Mass., by two members 
of the Class of '87 and first performed before members of the school 
and their friends, June 18, 1887, and later at Ellsworth, Maine, 
April 6, 1888. 

Price, -.--.. - 35 cents. 



THE PEAK SISTERS. 

A humorous entertainment for young ladies. Arranged by Mary B. 
Horne. Any number of ladies may take part, but seven only are 
necessary. No scenery; costumes very simple. This laughable 
trifle meets with invariable success wherever performed. 

Price, ------ - 15 cents. 



THE BOOK OF DRILLS. 

A group of entertainments for female characters for stage or floor per- 
formance, by Mary B. Horne, the author of " The Peak Sisters," etc. 

Price, -------30 cents. 



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